


Ghosts in My Head

by YunoJuno



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Kissing, Nightmares, but like... ship inspired, i mean does that makes it count as a ship maybe, its not romance, post-auction arc, really vaugely i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 03:38:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14347188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YunoJuno/pseuds/YunoJuno
Summary: Shirazu can't get her out of his head.





	Ghosts in My Head

**Author's Note:**

> set after the auction arc

The ground under Shirazu’s feet was wet, emitting sloppy sounds each and every time he pulled his feet away and swallowing his boots right down to just above his ankles when he slammed them down again. Running was exhausting, the humid air causing heavy beads of sweat to roll down his face with increasing frequency. All around and above him giant, twisted branches shrouded the already ominously dark landscape in further shadows, but they were not trees. Rather than wood or plant matter these thorns were spiraling, moving as if the place itself was alive, emitting grotesque sounds. If Shirazu had to liken them to something, they held an uncanny resemblance to the RC growths of his sister.

That’s right, Hairu. The reason he wouldn’t, no couldn’t stop running. Shirazu faltered for a moment and came dangerously close to the ground with his face when another shrill scream tore through the air. He couldn’t see her but Hairu’s voice was frightened, panicked and he needed to be there for her.

What had been a swamp-like terrain started to soften even further the closer he got to her screams, it now reached to his knees and felt like thick slugg trying to pull him down. Five more steps and he couldn’t move his legs anymore, moving his arms about desperately. The screams had disappeared entirely now and the only sounds Shirazu could hear was his own laboured breathing. Soon even that would quiet he realised with dawning horror as he sunk further and further, unable to turn back.

It only takes seconds before the orange of Shirazu’s hair is dyed brown-reddish and he has to close his mouth as to not inhale anything. It’s fruitless, he realises when the swamp invades his nose and he’s drowning scaredscared imscared he’ll die like this, alone.

The grip on his shoulder is entirely unexpected tugging him upward. He breaks the surface and no longer is it a dark swamp, but rather a never ending ocean of blackness. The hand that felt like salvation only moments ago doesn't allow him any time to relax, it’s now cold and diggs into him like the icy hold of death. He can feel warm breathing over his shoulder, it’s damp and smells sweetly rotten.

“Shirazu…” from behind someone whispers his name but the hand travels up his neck and keeps a firm hold, making it impossible to turn his head.

He knows that voice, the sultry tone full of hungry darkness. It’s a voice that has haunted his dreams since the night he first heard it emanated from painted lips. As soon as Shirazu lets his thoughts wander to her he is no longer frozen in place, instead long nails graze his neck as he’s spun around harsly to face a black haired lady.

Maybe she would have been beautiful. Maybe she had been, in another time. Right now her head was bent to an unnatural degree, wide kakugan eyes starring unblinkingly into his very soul.

“Fufufu… murderer…” she leans in, placing a kiss against his lips. It’s slick with blood and expensive lipstick, preventing Shirazu from breathing until he feels like he is drowning all over again. That’s when he wakes up in a tangled, sweaty mess, hands grasping at air and breath heavy.

She’s no human, is what he tells himself. But her voice echoes in his head even when he isn’t sleeping and her presence has become a ghost silently following him, weighing him down.


End file.
